


A Meeting

by jbwritesthings



Series: Dragon Age: A Legacy [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, just a random scene, with Alistair and a nerd inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 13:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbwritesthings/pseuds/jbwritesthings
Summary: After the Exalted Council, Inquisitor Lavellan seeks to find a way to calm the concerns of the Ferelden people, arranging a meeting with the king himself.





	A Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a random scene I wrote as an exercise a friend requested I post on ao3. It's a bit of a rough piece and will probably be reworked and changed after more research into Dragon Age occurs.

“So why has the Inquisitor asked for this meeting, Uncle?” Alistair inquired as the pair sat in the study of the Castle of Redcliffe. After the end of the Exalted Council, with the Inquisition finding a way to defy Ferelden’s desire for them to disband, the Inquisitor had apparently stopped Teagan before he left and made an offer to meet with both him and the king in Redcliffe to further discuss the issue.

“He mentioned it may interest you, whatever he plans on suggesting,” Teagan remarked, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose he’s trying to play nice in some way. I still don’t trust his motives, though.”

“Quite right, with how Briala apparently pulls Gaspard’s strings in Orlais and won’t go against the Inquisitor,” Alistair agreed. “He’s a dangerous man to cross. And if he were able to raise up an army…” Ferelden had dealt with enough foreign forces invading their lands. Despite their strength, there was a fear in the people of the elven Inquisitor and what he may be able to do.

“My majesty, my lord,” a servant interrupted, opening the door to the study. “The Lord Inquisitor Lavellan has arrived.”

“Send him in,” Alistair ordered, “I’m interested in what he has to say.” It was but a moment or so before the auburn haired elf entered. He walked in with a command, yet it wasn’t an imposing one. More so of a man who knew how to lead and would not falter in his steps. Amber-orange eyes looked between the two before he curtly bowed his head and Alistair felt an odd familiarity with that eye color. He’d only met the Inquisitor briefly years before when dealing with the Magisters in Redcliffe, he hadn’t taken time to take the other in completely. Merely had felt he was a mage. In his one arm he carried a book with Dalish markings upon it.

“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting,” he began, his tone rich and polite, and not in the falsely polite manner of the Orlesians. This was the terrifying Inquisitor then?

“I appreciate you asking to meet on our own lands,” Alistair began then gestured to the third chair. “Would you like to have a seat?”

“Not quite yet,” the Inquisitor began, seeming a bit nervous. He shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment then moved, setting the book on the table beside him, turning away. “Are you familiar with Elven writing?”

The question took Alistair off guard. He had learned it, from Ceridwen, what she knew as it was. Letters, symbols, but not many words. It had primarily been lost to the elves and it was the Keepers who knew more. And Ceridwen had been a hunter before she was a warden. They used to use the letters to write to one another, a sort of playful code.

“I’m acquainted with some of it, mainly the letters,” Alistair confessed. He knew how closely the elves kept their history and wondered if this would get Ceridwen in trouble with her people.

“That book is a record keeping of different lines within the clans,” the Inquisitor explained, beginning to pace. Alistair looked at the book then back to the Inquisitor. Or maybe he would be the one to get in trouble. “I borrowed it from the clan council, so I do need it back. It’s how we can keep track of matchmaking between clans. If one clan is too closely knit genetically, it enables us to find a suitable choice for one of their members.” He cleared his throat. “But if you turn to page 394...or is it 395? It’s been some time since I’ve looked at it.” He waved it off, clearing his throat a bit. “Anyway, you may find something which interests you.”

Alistair looked at the man, perplexed at the request but slowly opened the book to the pages he’d suggested. He started at page 393, eyes scanning the names until familiar symbols came to his eyes.

“Ceridwen Mahariel of Clan Sabrae…”

“Yes, your old friend.” The Inquisitor seemed pleased, waving his hand for the king to continue. “Look at her mother’s connections.”

Alistair did as was asked, surprised to see her mother had been of the Inquisitor’s clan. She’d had a few siblings and some nieces and nephews…

“You’re Ceridwen’s cousin.” The realization was starting to dawn on him.

“Correct!” He was an excitable sort, wasn’t he? “Her mother ran off with Keeper Mahariel of the Sabrae clan. I’m told it’s a romantic story…” He paused, seeming to consider it. “Or a cautionary tale of youthful rebellion...I always forget which the elders meant.” He cleared his throat, getting back to his purpose. “I thought I ought to bring proof of the claim before I told you I was related to the Hero of Ferelden.”

“And what is the point of this, Lord Inquisitor?” Teagan inquired, seeming to consider the man may try to manipulate this connection.

“Your people are concerned of what I may do to Ferelden,” Myrrdin began, “which is entirely understandable. Of all nations, Ferelden has suffered far too many times. I’ve no interest of worsening the weights you bear. But, with the elevated status elves are having as of late, perhaps an arrangement could be made, if all parties be willing.” He glanced over to Alistair, who merely sat dumbfounded.

Was this man really suggesting what Alistair believed he was? It seemed...Impossible for such a stroke of luck to occur. There had to be something more to it, something else. The Inquisitor was a man of great intellect and cunning, having manipulated affairs in different lands to benefit the elves. But he was also a fair and merciful man, a complex type to say the least.

“And is this not another way for you to have an elf in a court who you can whisper in her ear?” Alistair questioned, remembering Briala. And the idea he may attempt to manipulate Ceridwen roused Alistair’s temper.

“Even if that was my goal, would she be the sort to fall to that?” The Inquisitor countered. Alistair had to give him that. Ceridwen had always been a woman who did what was right and not fall under another’s sway. “My gains are your people’s minds at ease and an elven woman married to a king. It could cause a great stir within Thedas for elves. I hope for good.”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Alistair was surprised by the pleased look on the Inquisitor’s face. It left, though, as a slightly distressed one came.

“My people are vanishing,” he began, “I’m losing them for this world. If I can find a way for them to feel cemented with us, to feel valued and respected, even just slowly, it may stave off the growing ranks.”

And here was a man feeling as if he were fighting a losing battle. The command he had held when he walked in seemed to fade away as his shoulders dropped slightly. The pained expression in his eyes spoke of a man who would give anything for his people and only for them to abandon him in the end. It was a smack of reality. The weight of being Inquisitor on this man was a heavy one to say the least. The role may very well have been thrust upon him....

Something Alistair could relate to.

“Well...There’s also the issue of her being a warden,” Alistair began, “but I have no issues with an elf queen.”

“The council may, though,” Teagan pointed out, “the most you may get is consort.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy to see me married to  _ anyone _ at this point,” Alistair remarked dryly.

“I have a theory,” the Inquisitor stated, an excited light coming to his eyes. “Dragon blood.”

“Dragon blood?!” That caught Alistair’s attention even more.

“Yes, I can’t explain it in full, it’s suspicions,” he began, taking that seat finally and leaning close to the king, on the edge of his chair. “But….The Calling, or whatever, the voices. The song. Have you been hearing it as of late? Perhaps, say, the last five years? Even when Corypheus was active? Anything at all?”

Alistair thought on that. He’d heard it so well in his youth, with the Fifth Blight. Even after it was said and done, he’d heard it. Yet over the years, instead of getting stronger...It had ebbed away. Sure, he’d heard it a little bit when Corypheus had begun his nonsense, but once he was defeated…

There had been nothing.

“...No, nothing of strength. But how do you know about me and dragon’s blood?”

“I worked with Varric, he loves to tell stories,” The Inquisitor explained. “My theory is you are resistant to the Blight due to the blood of the dragon flowing through you. Now, if we consider that and high dragon blood, there may be a potion which can be developed to combat the Blight plague, the issue is the rarity of high dragons. Which, I admit, is a bit of my fault for...Well, I only wanted to study them, but they are very territorial, you see-”

“As fascinating as this is, any study you suggest would take years,” Alistair sighed. He’d gotten his hopes up.

“And here’s my part that I can’t explain thoroughly because it is theory and my suspicions are not mine to tell,” the Inquisitor partially seethed. “But! If a woman with the Taint, such as a Warden, were to say...Have a child with a man with dragon’s blood in his veins, she may be cured. And the issue of Warden fertility may be rectified with a fertility potion with a dash of high dragon blood in it. And I have viles of it.”

Alistair sat back in his chair, awestruck at the thoroughness of the Inquisitor. Well, he supposed he had that title for a reason. He had carefully considered all the questions Alistair might raise before Alistair could even have thought of them. Yet the question of what he couldn’t explain weighed on him.

“What can’t you explain? They aren’t yours to tell?”

The look on the Inquisitor’s face was a loss for words and desperately searching for them. He was debating with himself on what to say and how to say it. He moved to wring his hands together and silently cursed the missing one. He looked between Teagan and Alistair then back to Teagan. The look on Teagan’s face hinted at more as well. So something Teagan knew for certain, while the Inquisitor suspected.

“Perhaps you should speak with Fiona sometime,” the Inquisitor spoke softly. “She...Knew your father, apparently. But as I said, it is not my discussion to raise.” He looked back at Teagan again, examining him with a careful gaze. So he’d noticed the look on Teagan’s face as well. Maybe Alistair would take the Inquisitor’s suggestion, then.

“And you’re certain of this theory?”

“Ah, yes, the dragons have shown to be highly resistant to the Blight, I’ve read the studies and I’m sure Ceridwen has as well,” he started again, energetic. He seemed to get that way with any sort of ‘study,’ Alistair was learning. “It’s absolutely fascinating how it works. They seem to find a way to gather the tainted blood to one part of their body if it is too much for their resistance to fight off and then it becomes an abscess which pops off!” He looked between the pair, noting the looks on their faces at the information. “...Perhaps that was too much of a visual?”

“Well, I haven’t had any abscesses pop off,” Alistair jested and he automatically could tell the Inquisitor was about to go off again.

“Ah! Exactly! The Joining Ritual, which I have begged and asked over and over to be able to study, mind you, may have something to do with helping you even more. I’m sure if I had details on the exact items used in the ritual, a cure involving the dragon’s blood could be rendered. Such as herbs or the like...It’s quite something to speculate, to say the least. And entirely worthwhile! I respect the Wardens and their attempt for secrecy but…”

“Wouldn’t using dragon’s blood be blood magic?” Teagan cut in, seeming to become tired merely listening to the Inquisitor.

“Aren’t phylacteries used to hunt down mages blood magic?” The retort was quick and dry, surprising Alistair. “It’s not like it’ll summon a demon, after all. It’s merely an ingredient in a potion, doing good due to the qualities within the dragon.”

“He makes a point, there, Uncle,” Alistair remarked. It may be a good way to test the Inquisitor’s theory. Before his uncle could say more, Alistair rose to a stand, holding his hand out to the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor rose, starting to move his left shoulder before switching to his right hand. So he’d been left handed...That must be difficult to adjust to. “I suppose if I am to be asking your cousin’s hand in marriage, we ought to be on first name basis, then.”

A relaxed look came to the Inquisitor’s—  _ Myrrdin’s—  _ face. Apparently he detested titles just as much as Alistair did.

“That would be amenable, Alistair.”

“Good, Myrrdin.”


End file.
